


Something So Good

by halflightwrites



Series: Champions [2]
Category: Shazam! (2019)
Genre: & You Guys Asked For It, And Billy Realizes He Deserves Happiness Too, Because These Boys Deserve A Happy Ending, Consensual Underage Sex, First Time, Idiots in Love, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Sleepy Sex, You're Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 10:18:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18798358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halflightwrites/pseuds/halflightwrites
Summary: A little sleepy and a little slow, but good enough for the first time.Not because Billy didn't want more, or thought he didn't deserve it, but because he knew now that he did. And he knew there would be so many more times just like this one, so for now it was enough.





	Something So Good

**Author's Note:**

> there's no way this even touches the infamous alley scene™ but I'm a sucker for soft things, so here we are
> 
> (set after the fight with Sivana, but before the final scene in SIATW. you don't need to read that to read this, but you should anyway!)

“Billy?” Freddy asked, nails grazing his arm in the dark. “Are you still awake?”

Morning was slowly creeping up on them—the darkness had that spotty quality it took on just before the sun rose where the air shifted from black to gray to blue—but after the fear and triumph of the fight last night, Billy couldn’t have slept if he’d tried.

His body felt wired, as if some switch had been flipped and, like lightning redirecting, that buzz had escaped into his veins and mind. So Billy had lain awake and listened to Freddy snoring beside him, kept his thoughts on the smooth notches of Freddy’s spine where it pressed against his side instead of on other things. “Yeah.”

Freddy uncurled and pushed himself up onto his elbow. When he spoke, his voice was a soft scrape, still raspy from sleep, and Billy wanted to fall onto it the same way he wanted to reach out and run his hands over the boy beside him, to memorize him while he had the chance.

“Do you want to have sex?” Freddy asked.

Billy’s heart did a stupid little _thump, thump,_ tripping over itself for a beat and burning his surprise into the inner wall of his chest. “Right now?” What a stupid question, when else?

Freddy laughed, a little sleepy and a little shy, and Billy wished he’d said something else. “I mean, yeah. If you want to. It’s okay if you don’t, since I know we haven’t really talked about this, I just—” 

Billy sat up far enough to find Freddy’s chest, then traced Freddy’s shoulders and throat to find his mouth. He pressed his hand there, stopping Freddy in his tracks. “I want to. I was just making sure that’s what you meant.”

It was probably a stupid idea; they hadn’t actually talked about this—what they were or what it meant—but Billy didn’t need a conversation to know they were on the same page. He trusted Freddy, and like coming home when Blue asked, or making damn sure Freddy got the chance to live his dream again, it wasn’t really a choice. Billy didn’t need to think about it. He already knew.

“Okay,” Freddy said, but didn’t move.

Billy didn’t push him, partly because he had absolutely no idea how to start this and partly because he didn’t want to—he thought again of that day in the alley with Freddy’s heat and grip on him, and the absolute safety Billy had felt in that moment despite everything else happening around him. Freddy had done that for him and Billy wanted to feel it again, like an ache forming in his chest. So he waited.

Freddy set a careful hand on Billy’s shoulder and pushed him back down. The mattress dipped beside Billy's hips as Freddy settled over him and their mouths met. They’d kissed enough times now that Billy expected the thrill of it to lessen, but it never did. Each time felt like the first time all over again.

Freddy gripped his hair, his jaw, then his hands found Billy's chest and lingered. It felt like being held, and Billy understood desire as a singular, all consuming thing. 

Billy leaned up to let Freddy slip his t-shirt off, flinching against the sudden cold as Freddy peeled his own shirt off and tossed it carelessly to the floor. Their skin was hot when it met, from sleep and the blanket tucked around them, like a shield against the winter outside.

“How do you want to do this?” Freddy asked, pulling back to whisper.

Billy tried to follow, let his head hit the pillow again, and swallowed. “I don’t know.”

Freddy’s hands stilled on his stomach, at the spot where Billy’s skin dipped against his ribs. “You’ve never done this before?” Freddy asked, fingers pressing into bone and muscle.

The dark made them into shadows and Billy couldn’t make out the expression on Freddy’s face, but he could imagine it from the surprise in his voice. He wondered how Freddy could think otherwise when less than two weeks ago Billy had been asking him for advice on crushes, and Freddy must have followed that thought because his nails pressed little moons into Billy’s skin. 

“Anything?” Billy shook his head. “Not even kiss?”

“Just you,” Billy said.

“I was your first kiss and blowjob, at the same time?” Freddy asked, disbelief and the hint of something like distress hinging on a quiet laugh. 

Billy laughed too, small and embarrassed. “I might’ve jumped the gun on that one, but I don’t regret it.” 

Freddy sighed, a heavy-handed sound of release as if he’d been waiting to hear Billy say that, and bent back down to press his lips to Billy’s. Down his jaw, his chest, his stomach, above the place his nails had marked. “Me either.”

Billy held still as Freddy trailed lower, his mouth ghosting touches across Billy’s skin. It was light and teasing, and sharp, spurring flashes of want rose to meet each one. 

Billy was torn between impatience and pleasure; he wanted more, but he knew there was no need to rush. There would be so many more times just like this, and this one didn’t need to go further. Billy could hold still beneath Freddy until something made them stop, until sleep or sunlight pulled them apart, knowing that they had their entire lives to keep going. It was Freddy’s call. Whatever he chose, Billy would follow.

They pulled their boxers down, just enough to wrap their hands around each other. Billy’s strokes were sloppy, unsure, and Freddy’s grip on him was rough, edging the line between not enough and entirely too much. Billy pushed him away and said, “This isn’t working.”

Freddy sighed and crawled off of him. “I didn’t say I knew what I was doing.” 

Billy wanted to pull him back, but Freddy was already sitting back and pointing, so he reluctantly got up and crossed the room naked to dig blindly through the dresser. “Where?”

“Bottom drawer, back left corner.”

Freddy watched him from the bed, and Billy felt hot and stupid and wanted, a dangerous combination like the electricity buzzing beneath his skin. “You keep your lube with your Batman merch?”

Freddy laughed, a little stupidly, and Billy kept his mouth shut on the words that threatened to spill out. 

“Obviously,” Freddy said. “I’m a teenager, it’s my dark secret.”

“You’re an idiot,” Billy corrected. He let Freddy press him into the mattress again, settling back into the heat between the sheets and Freddy’s body like he belonged there. The thought pulled at emotions he didn't want to think about right now, so Billy pulled Freddy back down and focused on Freddy's grin against his mouth.

Freddy slicked both their hands with lube, and gripped Billy’s cock again with just enough pressure to pull a whine from his throat. Billy tried to reciprocate, but the longer Freddy went without really giving him anything, the harder it became to concentrate. Billy traced Freddy’s jaw, got a grip in his hair and pulled, just enough to get his point across.

Freddy laughed, low and strangled, and let go of Billy’s cock in favor of untangling Billy’s lube-slicked fingers from his curls. “I’m gonna have to shower now.”

“How awful,” Billy said.

Freddy ran his hands over Billy’s chest, tracing slick lines down. He squeezed Billy’s hips, his thighs, then said, “This better be as easy as you made it seem.”

“You don’t have to—” Billy managed, but Freddy took him in his hand and licked a hot line up the underside of his cock, so Billy stopped talking.

“I swear to God, Batson, you’re stupider than I thought if you think I don’t want this.”

Billy felt the way Freddy’s nose scrunched where it pressed inside his thigh, then Freddy took him into his mouth and Billy’s blunt nails pulled at the sheets.

The cold bedroom air bit at his chest, but the heat of Freddy’s mouth as he swallowed around him and his hands where they held Billy’s hips to the mattress was enough. It was almost too much. When Freddy slipped a drying finger inside of him, Billy covered a moan with his fist.

“I’m gonna come,” he whispered, and Freddy paused to laugh.

“Who’s stopping you?” Freddy started again, sharper and more focused, and Billy knew it was over. He wanted desperately to hold onto it, to drag the moment out for as long as possible, but it was already gone. 

Freddy swallowed as he came, but didn’t pull off or take his finger out. Within seconds it became too much, pushing Billy past the edge and over it, to the sharp, hot, grating place on the other side. “Freddy,” Billy said, then knocked him away with his foot.

“Hey, watch it,” Freddy laughed, landing carelessly on his side. His cheek swiped against the sheets as he looked up at Billy. “That’s my best feature.”

“Your smile,” Billy said, warm and tired and so in love it was unbearable. 

“What?” Freddy pulled himself up and leaned over him again.

“It’s your smile. Best feature. Physical. Your personality and your stupid brain and your—”

Freddy kissed him, and his skin was like lightning on Billy’s fried nerves. “Dude, that’s really sappy.”

Billy shrugged, wanting to put space between them to calm down and wanting to stay pressed together. He liked the feeling of it, like when laughter went on so long it became painful. 

Freddy laid down and looked sideways at Billy, the hand on his chest showing off his uneven breathing. 

Billy tried to get his own breathing under control, drinking in Freddy’s face now that the room was growing lighter. “Do you want me to blow you?” he asked.

Freddy shrugged, then after another minute pulled Billy back against him; their sweaty chests pressed near flush together and Billy’s thigh tucked over the sharp jut of Freddy’s hip. He rocked them together and it didn’t take any time at all before Billy was hard again, closing his eyes to pant against Freddy’s neck. 

Freddy’s fingers trailed his spine, then lower, and he asked, “This okay?”

“What about you?” Billy returned.

“I’m enjoying this,” Freddy said, so Billy nodded, following.

Freddy found the lube again and Billy shivered, jolting from the cold, wet shock of Freddy’s fingers against his skin. He bit at Freddy’s shoulder as those fingers slipped inside him, one at a time, the long stretches of space between each one filled with words and whimpers and sloppy, misplaced kisses. 

Billy slowly rocked his hips, forward against Freddy’s hard cock and backwards onto Freddy’s slick fingers. He could imagine the feeling of Freddy inside him and swallowed at the thought, letting it settle low in his gut. But that would come later. For now, this was enough.

Like before, Freddy didn’t seem to be in any hurry and though Billy felt his second orgasm building, he didn’t feel any need to rush it. It was damn near perfect, being held and touched and kissed like this, by the stupid, brilliant, beautiful boy doing it, and Billy didn’t want to lose it. It was the same feeling as the first time, in the alley, except now it was made better because of what he didn’t know then—that this isn't a one off thing, and Billy doesn't have to worry about anything except what he's feeling right now; Freddy isn't going anywhere, at least nowhere that Billy can't follow. But still—

“Were you serious earlier?”

“Hm?” Freddy asked, fingers pausing.

Billy pressed back onto them to tell him it was okay to keep going, and tried to focus on what he was asking. “About California.”

“What about it? I don’t even remember what I said.”

“You didn’t say anything,” Billy answered. His voice was slipping into the embarrassing territory of sharp and needy, but the desire to pull it back was absent. He wanted to stay like this—clinging to Freddy with nothing but their heat and sweat between them, Freddy’s fingers working inside him and his breath disturbing Billy’s hair at his scalp.

“You made a stupid joke about beaches, and I was thinking about you there. But you didn’t say if you wanted to go.”

Freddy sighed. He smiled against Billy’s forehead, but didn’t pull back. When he spoke, his words came out a little unsteady, as if he were the one on the verge of losing it instead of Billy. “Do you really need to ask me this? Billy, you should know me better than that by now.”

Freddy pulled away then, taking his heat and hold and fingers with him, and left Billy bare on the mattress. Freddy looked at him, and there were small, angry lines pulling his mouth down. “I don’t give a shit about California. Or school. And even if I did, you wouldn’t have to worry about it because whatever I end up doing, it’ll be with you.”

Billy nodded, feeling stupid and reassured. He should have known, but it was easy to let insecurity slip in too. It had only really been two days, but being with Freddy felt so natural that it almost scared him. It felt like it had always been this way, like he and Freddy had always just _been_ , and Billy was only having to remember how with each touch and kiss and honest word.

Maybe it was in his head, but he knew without asking that Freddy felt it too. Maybe it was an extension of themselves, of Red and Blue, fighting back to back and having learned one another in that way before doing it all over again, here. Maybe it was something else, or nothing at all.

Billy didn’t know. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind to think about it, and it wasn’t even important. Freddy was waiting for him to say something, but the only thing his tired, distracted brain could manage was, “Okay.”

Freddy rolled his eyes. He moved Billy’s sweaty hair off his forehead and mumbled something against the skin there, but Billy didn’t catch the words. “What?”

“Do you want to come again?” Freddy asked when he pulled back.

"I want you to come," Billy said.

He didn’t know what he was asking until he met Freddy’s eyes, and Billy could see his own desire and adoration reflected back in them. Freddy licked his lips, almost unconsciously, and nodded. 

He held still for a beat, as if waiting for Billy to change his mind, and then pulled the bottle of lube free from where it had slipped between the sheets. Billy watched him—the way the soft morning light caught on the sweat clinging to Freddy’s chest, the tight furrow of his eyebrows as he tore the condom open, the way the tear didn’t catch the first time because Freddy’s hands were slick and shaking.

Billy caught his wrist and said, “We don’t have to.”

Freddy shook his head and sighed, the nails of his free hand digging into the inside of Billy’s thigh. “I want to, but my legs starting to hurt. I need to lay down.” 

He said this like it was something unforgivable, and Billy felt relief so totally that he laughed. “So lay down, stupid.” 

Billy sat up and took the condom out of Freddy’s hand, the foil crinkling as it slipped between his fingers. He gestured to the empty space he’d left behind on the pillow.

Freddy sighed again, his melodrama strengthening the longer he was awake, but laid down in Billy’s place without arguing. His dark curls spilled across the pillow, a messy halo around his head, and his brown eyes watched Billy with the same hunger that Billy felt. 

“Better?” Billy asked.

“Better,” Freddy said.

Billy immediately missed Freddy’s weight on top of him; he felt too big and unsteady without it. But Freddy wrapped his hands around Billy’s hips to pull him down and Billy focused on that solid point of contact as he rolled the condom over Freddy’s cock.

Billy waited while Freddy reslicked his hand and wrapped it around himself, stroking once, twice, to coat his cock before pulling away to let Billy settle over him. Billy paused, the head of Freddy’s cock just scraping his hole. “You’re sure about this?”

Freddy squeezed Billy’s hips with slippery hands and rolled his eyes. “Are you asking me or you?”

“You,” Billy said, a little shaky and breathless. He couldn’t hold himself up like this much longer, so close to the edge of collapse, but he wanted to make sure. Billy needed to know that Freddy wanted this just as much as he did.

Freddy’s answer came in the form of movement instead of words; he tipped his head back against the pillow, then pushed his hips up. Billy’s hand kept Freddy’s cock steady as it slipped inside of him, and then they were both shaking, cursing against each other’s throats from the feeling.

Hot and steady and full—that’s how Billy felt, as he sank slowly to the base of Freddy’s cock, resting fully on Freddy’s hips beneath him. He kept his head down, forehead pressed to the hard line of Freddy’s collarbone, and let the feeling wash over him. Even without moving it came and went like an ache, only good. The ebb of the tide scraping against the shore inside him.

They found a rhythm, a little too slow and a little out of sync, but good enough for the first time. Good enough to pull twin moans from their throats and to dig Freddy’s nails into Billy’s skin at his hips. 

Billy’s thighs ached from the strain of holding himself up, but he kept the position, arm braced beneath Freddy’s head on the pillow, and met each thrust of Freddy’s hips as best he could. Billy got a hand around himself, half-thoughtless and half-desperate, but Freddy replaced it with his own.

That was all it took—Billy came after the first pull. Freddy didn’t loosen his grip, even as Billy spilled hot across his chest and broke their rhythm in a half-hearted attempt to catch his breath. After a minute, Billy opened his eyes from where he’d shut them and looked down at Freddy. “Did you come?”

Freddy stared at him, lashes fanning on a blink, and if Billy wasn’t already overwhelmed with the moment, the look on Freddy’s face would have been enough to get him there. Finally, Freddy shook his head. 

“What’s it gonna take?” Billy asked.

Freddy laughed, and the sound warmed the cold air between them. He ran a hand through his hair, set it back on Billy’s hip, and thrust up into him. “Not much more.”

Billy nodded into Freddy’s shoulder, held himself still despite his shaking thighs and let Freddy fuck him, slow and steady, until Freddy’s nails bit deeper into his skin and his breath broke in half on a groan. Billy lifted up to watch Freddy’s face as he came, drinking it in for no reason other than because he could. 

He pressed his face back to Freddy’s throat when it was over, and they laid together in silence, Freddy’s cock softening inside him and their sweat cooling in the bedroom air. Then Freddy shoved him gently away and said, “Okay, get off. I can feel our come gluing us together.”

“How awful,” Billy said, and watched Freddy’s teeth flash with his grin.

Freddy leaned down to hide the lube bottle beneath the bed, snagged one of their discarded shirts to clean them up, then settled on his side and looked at Billy. “You tired?”

“I’m happy,” Billy said, but he could feel sleep creeping up on him finally. 

Freddy smiled, all teeth, and scooted forward to press their lips together. Billy kissed back, a little sloppy and a little desperate still. He wanted to pull Freddy against him again, to fall asleep with Freddy soft inside of him, to hold onto the feeling of their bodies pressed together, but he didn’t say any of that. It felt like too much, or not enough of what it needed to be; Freddy might not understand what Billy meant by it, might mistake it for something else, and Billy wasn’t in the right frame of mind to explain himself.

In the end he didn’t need to, because when Freddy pulled away he said, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know,” Billy said. And he did, but it was hard to outrun instinct. 

Freddy had nothing to prove to him. Billy knew he could trust this and trust that it would last, that it was something he could feel good holding onto.

Freddy didn’t say anything else, just looked at Billy for a long moment before pulling them back together. Billy laid his arm over Freddy’s side and relaxed into Freddy’s hold on him. He listened to Freddy’s breathing as it slowed until eventually he fell asleep again. Then, Billy followed.


End file.
